


Roller-Skate Cafe

by RunGojira



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-05-03
Packaged: 2020-02-10 06:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18654835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunGojira/pseuds/RunGojira
Summary: Turles is a young college boy who falls hard for the grizzled, jaded detective that comes to his cafe every day. The two work against their differences and pasts to make things work. (twink/bear type relationship)





	1. Chapter 1

Turles looked up from the pad and pen in his hands to study the gruff older man that came in for lunch around 3:00 pm every day for lunch. He didn’t know much about him as he was fairly quiet, but he’d been able to figure out that he was a detective and had been working as one for a very long time, long enough for it to take the joy out of simple things. He’d overheard a phone-call one day where he found out his name, and even though they looked similar as they were both classed as low-class by Empire standards, Turles had found a lot of differences between them. Turles had a cheerful, sunny countenance and his smile always lit up the room when he walked through the doors, pearly white teeth shining through his dark face and his warm chocolate eyes glittering in amusement. The detective on the other hand always wore a grim expression, and normally wore strict business attire, his eyes several shades darker, a glittering onyx.

                His expression always seemed to soften somewhat when Turles would roll over to him on his skates, as he worked part time at a roller-skate café. Work attire was short shorts that came to mid-thigh and tight t-shirts with a small apron over it that held change. Turles loved it as it allowed him to get in the much needed exercise that Saiyan’s needed to output every day to get out their aggression.

                “Hey there, stranger,” Turles said flirtatiously, and the Detective smirked.

                “Likewise.”

                “You going for the usual today? Burger and fries?” Bardock tapped on the menu in front of him and pursed his lips together thoughtfully.

                “Nah, I think I’m going with the turkey club today, I need to eat something healthy once in a while,” he handed the menu up to Turles and the tips of their fingers touched, a jolt of electricity going through the younger man who tried to ignore it as he asked him what else he wanted.

                “Soup of the day, handsome?”

                “If it’s clam chowder or chili, hell no. Anything else is welcome.”

                “And coffee to drink?”

                “Yeah. You know how I like it.” Turles nodded and winked at him before skating away towards the computer and started putting his order in, the noise of the ticket expediter whirring and the cooks behind the counter on the line groaning.

                “Hey, cheer up, it’s our best customer!” Turles said as the line cook, a man who went by Fox due to the ears and tail he sported continued grumbling.

                “Oh, didn’t recognize it. He switched it up for us today.” Turles smiled and got his coffee before skating back over to his favourite customer and handed him the hot cup of coffee.

                “Thanks, appreciate it,” he mumbled as his eyes latched onto the white mug like a man dying of thirst that Turles put on the table in front of him.

                “No problem,” he sung before rushing off to help his other customers while he waited for the man’s meal to come up. He chatted, laughed, and carried on as he normally did, but felt his phone vibrating in his pocket and he felt a surge of anxiety as he already knew who it was that was texting him, but would have to wait for his break to do so. The food finally came up and Turles whisked it out to Bardock, who looked up at him gratefully and dug into his meal. Turles continued about his shift, but escaped to the bathroom once in order to check his phone and the anxiety turned to palpable fear as he read the messages.

                “Get outside, now.” It was from his ex-boyfriend, Broly, whom he’d broken up with on less than amicable terms.

                “Break in ten.”

                “Fine.”

                He went back out, trying to hide the fact that his hands were shaking and whipped around the café, going to check up on his detective who had finished his food and was still nursing his coffee.

                “Hey, I gotta go around and smoke real fast, I’ll be back for another cup,” he muttered, getting up from the table in the corner that he normally inhabited and left out the front, and Turles felt this was as good a time as ever to take his break and go see what his ex wanted.

                “Hey Fox? I’m going on break, be back in fifteen.” He put his apron on the counter and took his skates off, slipping into his sneakers before heading out the back door into the run down alleyway behind the café. He took two steps before he saw where Broly was leaned up against the old brick of the nearby rundown apartment building and he damned his heart for skipping a beat as he noticed, yet again, how attractive the man was. Turles swallowed as a sense of foreboding overtook him and Broly backed him against the wall near the dumpsters that had mercifully been emptied out earlier that day.

                “You been avoidin’ me,” he put his hands on either side of Turles’s head and the smaller male tucked his tail in between his legs in a show of fear. Broly picked up on the movement and leered at him.

                “N-no, I’ve just been b-busy,” Turles stuttered, alarmed at the rapidly rising pheromones that Broly was releasing.

                “Bullshit. Tell me who you’ve been fuckin’,”

                “B-Broly, there’s n-no one else! I t-told you!” Their voices started to rise without them realizing it and before Turles knew it, he was crying as Broly yelled at him, Turles stuttering back small, cut-off responses until Broly rose his fist and slammed it across Turles’s cheek, knocking him to the ground.

                Turles gasped sharply and more tears started to leak out as fear overtook him, his entire body shaking as Broly reached down and picked him up by the neck of his shirt to slap him again.

                “S-stop it!” Turles sobbed, “P-please!” A fist to his gut and then a sharp voice rang through the alleyway as Broly collapsed downwards. Turles wasn’t sure what had just happened but when he saw the detective standing behind his ex with his fists raised, he was able to piece just enough together to figure he’d knocked him down.

                “Pick on someone your own size, kid,” he grumbled, and Broly spat at his feet and hastily clambered up, only to run off. Turles was shaking visibly and Bardock approached him carefully, unsure of how he’d react.

                “Hey, easy. He’s gone now; are you alright?” Bardock gripped Turles’s chin and inspected his cheek, tutting before making a remark about how he’d bruise nicely.

                “I…I’m fine, I’m sorry you had to get involved,” Turles kept his eyes downcast, embarrassed that of all his customers, this man had to have been the one to see him like this.

                “Has he been giving you trouble?”

                “No, it’s f-fine…you don’t have to worry about paying for your meal today, I’ll…get it for you,” Turles was trying to recover quickly but it was still apparent that his nerves were shot.

                “Alright, well, if you say so.” Bardock pulled away and eyed Turles as he walked back inside, making sure he was safe before walking back around front and sitting back down at his table. Turles clocked out thirty minutes later but before he did he made sure to clean his tables and at the detective’s he found that he’d tipped the bill and then some, plus left a small business card for him. Turles picked it all up and pocketed it before taking away the dishes and wiping it down and then clocking out for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

Turles went out and sat in his old beat up car, locking the doors in the process, and studied the card that the Detective had left him. On the back there was a handwritten note in neat cursive that had a personal phone number and it said _‘Call me next time he shows up, I won’t be so nice next time.’_ Turles bit his lip and sighed, shoving the keys into the ignition and driving over to his coworker’s house so he could shower for the night. Turles didn’t have anywhere to stay since Broly had kicked him out months ago, and so he’d been couch surfing since then, and more often than not he slept in his car. Tonight however he was glad to have a warm place to stay, and he parked his car outside, grabbed his bag, and walked up the stone steps to knock on the door, looking around before he heard footsteps on the other side.

                “Hey, come on in,” Jason stood aside and let Turles in, closing the door behind him and locking it before going back to sit at the table where he was digging into his homemade spaghetti, which smelled delicious to Turles.  

                “Thanks, Jase.” Turles mumbled, his tail curling around his leg as he gripped the strap of his bag around his shoulder tighter.

                “Don’t mention it, bud. You know where everything’s at,” said Jase. Turles nodded and turned right to go down the hallway and into the door where the bathroom was. Turles prided himself on his appearance, and so any opportunity he had to make sure he was clean he took it. He turned the water on and stood under it, letting the warmth ease the tension out of his shoulders and he grabbed his shampoo and massaged it into his messy spikes, trying to let go of the day but not quite able to shake the fear. He sighed and turned off the water after he was done and stepped out, wrapping the towel around his waist as he leaned down to search for clean underwear to put on, then slipped into his skin tight lycra pants and threw on a black tank top over. He found clean socks and put them on, and sighed in relief when he ran the brush through his hair as the teeth teased his scalp. He hung up the towel and stepped out of the bathroom, leaving the fan going so as to air it out in there, and went back out to the living room and sat down on the couch, pulling out his notebook and studying his notes for his science exam that he had the following morning.

                Jason had gotten up from the table and washed his bowl, then came over and sat across from him in his giant chair, curled up like a cat and flicked on the television.

                “Fox texted me today, said you got into some trouble.”

                “It was nothing.” Turles rushed out, a little too quickly, and his cheeks heated up as he felt Jason looking at him.

                “You gotta get a restraining order, or something.”

                “It…doesn’t work like that with…”

                “Your kind?” Jason offered, while a commercial for toothpaste played in the background. Turles nodded, keeping his eyes downcast. Jason sighed heavily.

                “Turles, seriously man. You’re the best waitress we’ve ever had, I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you. Most of our customers come now because of you and the service you give them, not because of the food,” Jase said, and Turles looked up at him shyly.

                “I know…a lot of people are only nice because they’re scared of me.” His tail twitched on the couch beside him and he drew it closer to his body, resting it against his stomach.

                “I mean, sure, maybe that’s true, but as long as I’ve known you, you’ve never wanted to cause trouble for us, and that goes a long way, trust me. I was a little nervous when I first hired you, because I know what Saiyans are capable of, but you’re not like the rest. Your ex, however…he’s another story, and if we have to get the police involved, we will.” Turles sniffled and looked back down to his notes, stroking his tail for comfort.

                “Well, I appreciate you, Jase. I’m sorry.”

                “Don’t be. I just worry about your safety.” With that the two fell into silence and Turles looked back down at his notes, his eyes glazing over more often than not as he tried to concentrate.

                “I’m going to bed, Jase,” he muttered softly, and walked back down the hall to the guest bedroom which was technically Jason’s office. It held a pull-out couch that Turles slept on when he was here, and an office desk with a fairly expensive set up. Jason was really into online gaming, so he’d spent a lot of money on a dream PC. Turles didn’t really understand it himself, but since he was so focused on his school and his own nightmare of a life, he didn’t have much time to think about anything else. He unfolded the cream coloured blanket and pulled it over him, tossing and turning for a while before sleep finally overtook him.

                The next morning when he woke up he got ready and left before Jason even knew he was gone. He went to his classes and then again to work later, and he kept looking over his shoulder as he did so because Broly was absolutely the stalker type. A few weeks went by and Turles made a mistake and started to relax as nothing more happened with his ex. Each day when Bardock came in, he relaxed further, and he wasn’t sure when it started to happen, but he started stealing glances at the older man at every chance he got. When he took his order he would admire the strong jaw and the scar that covered half of his face, and more than a few times he got caught staring but tried to pull it off as just being a good listener. Typically however, he’d stiffen and look down to his notepad and clear his throat.

                “U-um so, coffee black with a grilled chicken salad today?” Turles had just been caught and didn’t see the tight grin that Bardock stifled behind his hand.

                “Mm.” he nodded, and Turles spun around, skating off as he usually did, using his tail for balance. He came back once the food was ready and set it down, and his eyes met with the detective’s and he paused, the breath catching in his throat.

                “How long you gonna keep this up, sweetcheeks?”

                “I…wh-what?” Turles laughed awkwardly and Bardock beckoned for him to sit down. Turles glanced around and saw that it was nearly empty so he pulled out a chair and sat down cautiously.

                “You obviously have something to say to me,” Bardock sat back casually, enjoying the way the younger man squirmed.

                “Oh I…I just wanted to say thank you for…the other night,” Turles mumbled, his finger twisting around each other as he wrung them underneath the table.

                “I see.” Bardock brought his coffee cup up to his lips and eyed him, but Turles didn’t know him well enough to see that his eyes were full of amusement. At that moment, another customer came in and Turles became distracted away from Bardock’s face as he got up and went to attend to them, calling out to him when he left.

                “Hey! Have a nice day!” Bardock waved at him over his shoulder and Turles ginned as he went about helping his customers and finished out his shift in a good mood. He flung his bag over his shoulder and was whistling to himself as he walked out back, taking out the trash before going to his car when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He jumped and spun around, coming face to face with someone he’d never met before.

                “Uh, can I help you?” he asked, and nervously sidestepped him, clutching his bag closer to his body and wrapping his tail around his waist tightly.

                “Not me. Him.” He pointed to someone behind Turles and as he turned around he was met with a fist to his face. He gasped and was pushed into the waiting arms of the other guy, who held him down so he could be hit over and over by his ex.

                “Broly!” he screamed, crying in pain as his lip was split and his cheekbone shattered. His world became excruciating pain as Broly shouted abusive words at him as well, and Turles started fading in and out of consciousness shortly after he felt a sharp pain enter right above his heart under his shoulder. He wasn’t aware enough to know what exactly happened after that, only that suddenly Broly was torn away from him and slammed against the ground, the other guy dropping him and running away swearing loudly. Blood and darkness, fear and pain, and then…then he was being picked up carefully, and a gruff voice was speaking as if from far away, and then there was a haze of confusing lights before he finally passed out.


	3. Chapter 3

He came to feeling heavy, his arms at his sides tightly and his whole body not able to move, and he groaned as he shut his eyes tighter feeling the warmth of the sun coming in through a nearby window.

                “Nn…” he turned his head to the side and opened his eyes, the normal morning blur easing its way out of his eyesight so he could see further, and thus that was how he noticed a man sitting in the chair in the corner wearing dark slacks and a form fitting button down shirt. His head rose up and he scooted closer to the bed, and Turles’s heart beat faster when he realized it was Bardock.

                “Easy, little Saiyan. They’ve got you hooked up to all manner of things right now,” his gruff voice soothed him and his hand reached out to brush hair back from his face.

                “Mm…I can’t…afford this…” Turles mumbled, ever the poor college student and used to facing reality.

                “You won’t be paying for it.” Bardock stood up and eyed the monitors, putting his hand on Turles’s arm through the blankets.

                “What…about…”

                “He’s in jail, if you’re askin’ about your ex.” Turles breathed a sigh of relief and focused on Bardock’s face.

                “What happened?”

                “Someone at the restaurant heard the commotion and called 911, I live not too far away and heard it on my radio, so I was the first on the scene. And let me tell ya, you sure know how to pick ‘em.”

                “I left him.”

                “Ah. Domestic dispute.”

                “Yeah, if you could call it that,” Turles grumbled, looking away from the handsome detective’s face and biting his lip.

                “You should get some more rest, don’t worry about me I’ll be here when you wake up again, since I’m in charge of your case.” Turles nodded gratefully and slipped back into a fitful sleep, not waking up until it was well into the night and overheard a nurse discussing his wounds with Bardock. Turles groaned and struggled to sit up, and they both looked over in surprise at hearing him rustling around.

                “Easy, easy there. What, you want to sit up?” Bardock came over and pressed the button on the side of the bed that let Turles sit more upright, and the nurse came over and took his vitals. He frowned when he realized just how close proximity Bardock was to him, and couldn’t resist scenting him, his nose twitching slightly at the action and his heart beating faster when he realized that he was an alpha.

                ‘Ah shit,’ he mused internally, but said nothing, just laid back and accepted what had become his crazy life.

                It turned out he’d had a broken wrist and more than a little bruising all over his body but his tail was intact still and so was the rest of him. The knife wound was healing well though it stung like crazy at times, and his wrist had been reset and put in a brace. After a few days he was cleared to go leave and he met his detective outside the hospital.

                “Lookin’ good, kid.” He walked Turles to his car and noticed after a cursory glance the sheer amount of stuff Turles had in it, but said nothing, only offering a raised eyebrow. Turles frowned and looked up at him.

                “Thanks…for everything. I…” Turles trailed off and his dark cheeks flushed in embarrassment.

                “You need anything, you have my number.” Bardock tapped the roof of his car and Turles nodded.

                “Yeah.” He put the key in the ignition and it rumbled to life, and the first place he went to was Jason’s house, since he didn’t know where else to go. Luckily the man was home, and he pulled into his driveway and made sure to grab his bag before walking up to the door. He hadn’t even raised his hand to knock before it was flung open and Jason was grabbing him from inside and pulling him into a tight hug.

                “Fuck, Turles, I thought I’d lost my best worker,” he shut the door with his foot and Turles felt a few hot tears leak out of his eyes, but with some difficulty he managed to get a hold of himself.

                “I just want a shower, and a bed for tonight, and I’ll…be gone in the morning like usual.” Jason pulled back and looked him over, his eyes worried but knowing that he couldn’t get involved with a Saiyan, especially one with a dangerous ex.

                “While you were out, we installed cameras all over the property, so if he comes back again, we’ll have proof.” Turles nodded and extracted himself out from under Jason’s arms and went to the bathroom, turning on the fan and locking the door behind him as he got undressed. He bit his lip anxiously and stepped into the scalding hot water, relaxing as his muscles relaxed and the tension left him for even a few blessed moments. He mused over the fact that he had a small crush on the detective that had saved him twice now, and he thought about how much debt he owed to the man that hadn’t asked for it in return. He felt inexplicably pulled towards him somehow, even though he was nearly twenty years his senior, but amongst Saiyans, and especially to Turles, that was where the allure lay. Saiyans looked at things such as relationships and mating differently than the humans did. He reached down and stroked himself absentmindedly, thinking about the detectives’ calloused fingers doing it, and bit his lip again as he fell into his short fantasy, relieving himself quietly into his hand before washing it down the drain.

                ‘You’ve got it bad, Turles,’ he told himself with a sharp sigh, turning the water off and toweling himself off before reaching into his bag and pulling out his clothes. He’d have to do laundry soon, but that was a trip for a different day. He walked into the room he slept in and collapsed, sleeping better than he had since going into the hospital, and woke up early the next morning so he could get to his classes.

                He had the necessary documentation, but knew he’d have to work extra hard in order to get back up to where he’d been since some of his professors openly disliked Saiyans. He knew it was mainly exaggerated stories and fear that was where it lay, but it still got to him on his bad days, which today undoubtedly was. His wrist was killing him as he hadn’t had time to go and pick up his meds from the pharmacy and thus was grouchy. When the day had finally came to an end, he got into his car and relaxed, looking in the back for his work uniform and flinging it onto the seat next to him. It had a few bloodstains and he swore loudly before turning his car on and driving to his job at the café.


	4. Chapter 4

When he got there however, he’d only made it to the crew room and was putting on his skates when Fox came around the corner and folded his arms across his chest, tapping his foot and wagging his fluffy tail.

                “No, not today Turles. You’re on light duty, and you sure as hell ain’t getting on those skates. Take the night off.” Fox told him, and Turles looked like he’d been slapped.

                “I…what?”

                “Jason said he’d still pay you but wants you to rest up.” Turles was dumbfounded and went out to sit in his car.

                “Well, looks like I’m doing laundry today then,” he muttered as he drove his beat up clunker to the place he normally went when he did his clothes. It was an old white building, built fifty years prior, and was a 24 hour service type place, full of washers and dryers that gimmicked you out of your quarters before you even realized it, and so he went in and started the process of extracting his clothes out of his car and placing them into several different washers. He perched himself up on one of the counters that was there for folding and started staring at his nails, bored already out of his mind but wishing they would hurry; that is, until several hours later when he got a phone call from the sheriff’s office.

                “Hello?” He picked it up and answered hesitantly.

                “Yes, is this Turles?”

                “Who’s asking?”

                “This is Carla at the sheriff’s office, just calling to let you know that Broly has posted bail. We send calls out in cases like yours to notify you.”

                “Oh…ok. Thank you,” he hung up and his phone started blowing up with messages, and Turles slid down to hide from the windows, fearing that Broly somehow knew where he was. Without thinking, he reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out the detective’s number, punched in the number, and bit his nails nervously while it rang…not that he waited long.

                A tired, gruff voice answered on the second ring.

                “Yes?”

                “I…um…is this Detective Bardock?” Turles stuttered, and he heard rustling on the other end, as if he was getting out of bed.

                “Yes. I assume this is my waitress?”

                “Yes, I…Broly’s out, I think…I don’t know where he’s at, but I’m…” there was a loud bang from outside and Turles yelped, tears streaking down his face.

                “Where are you, Turles? I’m on my way. Get somewhere you can lock a door and hide.”

                “I’m at the laundromat…on 5th street…my clothes are still washing…” Turles peeked around and saw nothing and no one outside but scrambled to the bathroom on his hands and knees, kicking the bathroom door shut. He put the phone back up to his ear and told him he was hiding in the bathroom, but at every noise he heard he jumped, his fear mounting.

                “Just stay on the phone with me, ok? I’m almost there, tell me what’s going on right now,” Bardock soothed in a calm voice, as calm as his gravelly tone could be. Turles stuttered more answers into the phone, his tail wrapped around his waist tightly as he cowered in fear.

                “Alright, I’m checking outside the property, you stay where you’re at. We’ll get you out of there, alright?” Turles nodded mutely, and the seconds ticked by what felt like hours before he heard the sound of the doors opening and then footsteps to the bathroom.

                “Turles?” Bardock asked quietly, and he stood up and pressed his hands to the door, speaking into the phone still.

                “Yes?”

                “You can open up, I’m here.” He ended the call and unlocked the bathroom door with fumbling fingers, and was pulled into Bardock’s warm embrace.

                “You said your stuff is still wet?”

                “Y-yes, I…they called me a little bit ago, but I…he could…I-I…” Turles was a stuttering mess and Bardock ran his hand through his wild hair.

                “I’m helping you out, kid. It’s fine. Let’s get your clothes in bags and we can do it at my house, ok? But I’m gonna need you to listen to what I say and follow my directions exactly.” Turles nodded and they rounded up his clothes before going to their separate cars and getting in. Turles got a phonecall and answered it, knowing it was Bardock on the other line.

                “Ok, I’m taking you to my place, but first I’m going to make sure you aren’t being followed, you got that?” Turles nodded and listened to the very roundabout directions he received, and he had never thought that going five minutes away could turn into an hour of turn around. Eventually, he was led into a small parking garage and Bardock ordered him to park in his own spot before getting out and ending the call. Turles was still highly paranoid and Bardock carried his laundry for him while he grabbed his bag and headed up the stairs and onto a landing, going into the door that was a keyed entry and hearing it click shut behind them. The noise did little to assuage Turles’s fear until he was led up two flights of stairs and to an unassuming door that held a tarnished brass number over the head that read 27. Bardock opened it with the same key card and let Turles in first, and he accepted graciously, pausing when he was just inside so Bardock could enter as well.

                “I’m putting these in the dryer, make yourself at home kid,” he said as he brushed past him with the wet laundry. Turles nodded and looked around him; it was a small apartment, modest yet immaculate. The kitchen was directly off the hallway leading from the door, there was a counter with barstools and the living room was directly off of that. A hallway led off from the living room on the left side which was where Bardock had disappeared to, and a hallway on the right side that showed a bathroom and a closed door, which Turles assumed was the detective’s bedroom. Turles shivered and was grateful when Bardock entered back into the room, gesturing around as he rubbed the back of his head.

                “You can sit down, you might as well stay awhile. I know you don’t have anywhere else to go, kid.” Turles shuffled his feet and cast his eyes downward.

                “H-how do you…?”

                “How do I know that? Because normal college kids don’t have their lives’ belongings in their cars. And besides that, it’s my job to notice these things.” His voice was gruff as ever but Turles sensed a softness to him as he mentioned the last part, and so he went and sat down, sinking into the beige couch that threatened to swallow him up.

                Bardock threw a blanket over him and eased out of his shoes, asking if he was ok.

                “I’m sorry, I just…didn’t know what to do, I…”

                “No need to apologize.” Turles nodded and leaned his head onto the back of the couch, wrapping the blanket tighter around him while his tail peeked out the end of the couch. The older Saiyan took his jacket off and placed his gun on the coffee table before sinking down with a sigh of relief.

                “Those shoes are terrible.” He muttered, reaching for a remote and turning on the television for some background noise before he turned to look at Turles again.

                “You thirsty?” Turles nodded his head, he was actually parched, and watched at Bardock went to his fridge and pulled out a cold bottle of water for him, and then a beer for himself. He came back over and handed him the water, which Turles took gratefully, and started downing it.

                “Relax kid, I’m not into hurting my own kind, especially someone like you.”

                “I didn’t think you were, I just…” Turles cast his eyes down shyly and noticed out of the corner of his eye Bardock putting the bottle to his lips and knocking it back, letting out a satisfied sigh.

                “You’ve been through a lot,” he said conversationally, and Turles let it all out, unable to hold it in anymore.

                “I…yeah, I guess so. My parents….the people that raised me, weren’t Saiyans, and thought they could win brownie points in their community by taking on a ‘blood thirsty monster and taming him’. Imagine their shock when I turned out to be meek and passive, and most of all gay, and they kicked me out at 17. I went and lived with Broly, because he was the only other Saiyan I knew and we were kind of a thing, but not really. I lived with him because I had nowhere else to go and I was young and naïve. Obviously he was abusive, and I worked my ass off to get into school, and now…”

                “Now you’re living in your car, trying to escape the crazy bastard.” Bardock finished for him. Turles nodded and finished his water, holding the now empty bottle in his hands awkwardly. They fell into silence and Turles wasn’t sure when it happened, but he felt himself drift off to sleep on the couch, lulled by the comfort of being somewhere safe.

                When he woke up, he was in a bed and he’d been changed into a shirt and shorts that weren’t his, as the shirt fell down off one shoulder and the shorts were a little big on him, but he sat up in the bed warily as he looked around. He must have been in Bardock’s room, as it was pretty bare; no decorations on the walls, sparse furniture, and the bedding was grey and white even though it was a comfortable bed. He shivered a little but swung his legs down over the bed, and padded out through the doorway, searching for the detective. He found him sitting on his couch drinking some coffee and he eyed him, keeping his face impassive as he sipped the hot liquid down.

                “Coffee?” Turles muttered, rubbing his stomach under the shirt, and sitting down next to Bardock.

                “Not as good as yours, but it’ll do. How’d you sleep?”

                “Surprisingly well, I…I’m not used to it.”

                “Good. Hope you don’t mind, I changed your clothes so you’d be more comfortable.”

                “N-not at all,” Turles said, blushing as he looked over and they made eye contact.

                “Good. I have a proposition for you.” Turles nodded and cocked his head to the side, his tail hanging down off the couch by his leg as he shifted to face his body towards the older man.

                “Ok?”

                “You can stay here as long as you need to, work on your school, get healed up. I can go in to town and get your meds if you want, I know they had to put you on something for the pain, and in the meantime just…make yourself at home.” It sounded good to Turles, and he didn’t really have anywhere else to go, knowing he couldn’t live with Jason because it was too dangerous, but Bardock? Yeah, he could live with him.

                “Ok, I…thanks,” he said, embarrassed.

                “Don’t mention it.” Bardock stood up and pressed his knuckled to his jaw, and the act was so intimate it surprised him. He was still blushing long after Bardock had left and went around the house, cleaning things here and there and making sure it looked better when Bardock came back.

                He stepped in through the door and glanced around, smelling the cleaning supplies in the air, and smirked when he saw Turles still wearing his clothes cooped up on the couch with his laptop, doing his schoolwork. He glanced up when he heard the door shut and he gave him a faltering smile.

                “Hey.” Bardock tried to stifle a grin but couldn’t resist. It just felt too good to come home to someone waiting for him.


End file.
